


Lunar Nightmares

by Sherlocks Sparrow (Brink182)



Category: Psych
Genre: Adult Situations, Anal Sex, Angst, Double-penetration, Drama, Excessive Violence, Gangbang, Hurt/Comfort, Language, M/M, Oral Sex, Public Sex, description of Rape, implied rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-01
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-13 07:07:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brink182/pseuds/Sherlocks%20Sparrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Men are being murdered and assaulted outside a club in Santa Barbara known as the Lunar Lounge. Shawn is relunctant to take the case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Out Sick

** Lunar Nightmares **

** By: Sherlock's Sparrow **

**Disclaimer:** All characters, settings, etc. that you recognize from _Psych_ are property of Steve Franks and USA Network. Everything else is property of me; unless its something real and then it isn't mine. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, no matter how much I wish I was. No copyright infringement is intended. Please no suing of me.

 

** Chapter One: Out Sick **

 

Shawn Spencer lay curled up in a ball on his bed, clutching a pillow over his chest and buried beneath a pile of blankets. He never wanted to come out again. Suddenly, his cell phone started to ring. Shawn ignored it. It rang three more times before going silent. Then, the land line rang. Shawn let it go to voicemail. The phone went to voicemail two more times, before his cell phone rang again. His phone alerted him to a text message. And another. And another. And another.

A short while later, there was a knock on the apartment door. He did not move to answer it. Finally, the knocking ceased, the lock was unlocked and the door swung open.

"Shawn? Shawn? I know you're here, Shawn!" called the familiar voice one Burton Guster.

Shawn didn't answer his friend, but that didn't stop Gus from entering his room. Gus uncovered Shawn and stared at his curled up form.

"What are you doing still in bed?" asked Gus, "are you sick?"

Shawn shook his head feebly.

"Was," he croaked.

Gus had a good look at Shawn. His face looked a little peaky, his eyes were shiny, making them look sort of glassy and he had dark smudges under his eyes. All in all, he didn't look very well. _Maybe he really is ill._

"Can I get you anything?" asked Gus, feeling bad for his friend.

"Just wanna be left alone," said Shawn.

Gus nodded.

"Okay," he said.

When Gus returned to Shawn's apartment, he noticed the light on the phone blinked, indicating voicemail messages. Gus clicked the voicemail button. The first two were from Juliet. She asked where he was and the Chief was not happy he wasn't at the station, yet. There were two from Lassiter as well. His messages were basically the same as Juliet's, but not as caring or polite. There was one from Henry. He wanted to know when Shawn was going to come over and help fix the gutters. There were a few from himself, demanding that Shawn pick up the phone. The last was from Chief Vick, reminding Shawn to stop by the station at 1:00. Gus deleted the messages and went to check up on Shawn.

Shawn was sleeping. He was tossing and turning in his sleep and quietly moaning.

He mumbled things like "Stop. Don't. No more."

Gus thought he was having a bad dream from one of the times he'd been taken hostage while on a case, or injured by a suspect while on a case. Shawn was covered in a light sweat. Gus thought it'd be a good idea to wake him.

Once Shawn was awake again, Gus decided to make him something to eat. In the small kitchen, Gus discovered that Shawn had half a pineapple, two oranges, about a cup of milk, four bad eggs, one slice of cheese, and half a box of cereal. Gus decided to go shopping. Gus poked his head into Shawn's room and saw he was once more buried under the blanket. In the living room, Gus took some money Shawn had in his wallet. _Shawn's groceries-Shawn's money._

Gus returned to Shawn's apartment and put away the groceries. He made soup, sandwiches and smoothies for a late lunch.

"Shawn?"

"Go 'way," muttered Shawn from under a blanket.

"You gotta eat, man," said Gus.

A loud sigh came from under the blanket, as though Gus was being completely unreasonable, before Shawn tossed it aside. He sat cross-legged on the bed and prepared to eat the meal Gus had provided. The two men ate in silence. Shawn had eaten half a sandwich and a few spoonfuls of soup, when he ran to the bathroom to throw up. When he returned to his bedroom, Gus stared at him in concern.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Shawn nodded.

"Fine," he said, pulling the blanket over himself once more.

Gus carried the dishes to the kitchen and washed them. Then, he left the apartment.


	2. Hiding

** Chapter Two: Hiding **

 

_A gun pointed at his head. On his knees on the cold pavement. A hollow laugh._

Shawn opened his eyes and saw the cocoon of bedding he'd made for himself. He heard movement in another room. Someone was in his apartment! Shawn cautiously poked his head out into the open. He heard the vacuum cleaner running. Wait, the burglar was..vacuuming his apartment? And, singing Joan Jett and the Blackhearts? Wait...he _knew_ that voice! It was only Gus! Shawn relaxed and snuggled back under his small mountain of bedding.

Gus was worried about Shawn's inability to keep his food in his stomach for more than a few minutes at a time. He thought he should see a doctor, but Shawn refused, insisting he was fine, but never leaving his bed, except to use the bathroom. That was another cause for concern. Shawn hated being sick. He'd never been so sick he willingly stayed in bed.

Gus had just finished having an argument with Shawn about the doctor. He was now gathering Shawn's dirty clothes to wash. In the bathroom, Gus found a pair of jeans buried under a bunch of dirty towels. He almost retched when he took a good look at the denim and ran back to Shawn's room.

"Shawn, why is there blood on the seat of these jeans?" he asked, showing him the garment in question.

"That's n-not blood, Gus," said Shawn, "it's...paint. I sat on a newly painted bench last week and it must have been still wet."

"It looks like blood," said Gus.

"Why would I have blood _there_ , Gus?" snapped Shawn.

Gus shrugged.

"I don't know," he said, "is it blood?"

"No!"

Things had been awkward and silent after that. Finally, Gus left for the day. He promised to bring the clothes back the next morning. Shawn mumbled something unintelligible from under his blanket shroud.

The next morning, Gus was getting ready to leave his apartment to stop by Shawn's on his way to Central Coast Pharmaceuticals, when his cell phone rang. It was Shawn.

"Dude, where are you?" Shawn asked, "I can't believe I'm at the office before you!"

"The Psych office?" asked Gus.

"Yes, of course," replied Shawn, "seriously, Gus, where are you?"

"Home," answered Gus, "I _was_ going to drop laundry off at your apartment before starting my route."

"Are you even coming in to do _our_ job today?" asked Shawn.

"Yes," said Gus.

"Good! We should totally follow Lassy and Jules to a crime scene and solve it before they do!"

When Gus made it to the Psych office, Shawn jumped out of his chair and headed towards the door.

"You're here! Great! Let's go!"

Before Gus could say one word, Shawn was out the door.

"C'mon, Gus!" he whined, "let's go already! Oh, let's stop for lunch on the way!"

They'd gone to the Taco Shack drive-thru and Shawn kept his lunch down, though he did look like Gus after he saw a dead body.

"You okay?" asked Gus, his concern obvious.

Shawn swallowed hard.

"Yeah," he said, "of course I am."

Gus continued to watch Shawn out of the corner of his eye as he continued to drive.

"How do you know where Lassiter and Juliet are?" asked Gus.

"Called Buzz," said Shawn.


	3. Murder at the Lunar Lounge

** Chapter Three: Murder at the Lunar Lounge **

Detective Carlton Lassiter and his partner, Juliet O'Hara, were at their newest crime scene-an alley behind a night club called the Lunar Lounge. The victim was a man, around thirty years of age. He was stripped bare-his boxers and pants on the ground a few feet away from the body; a large piece of his own shirt was used to tie his hands behind his back. He was shot half a dozen times in the torso. The rest of the shirt was with his other clothes. Forensics had yet to come up with any kind of decent evidence.

Shawn and Gus arrived on the scene and Gus thought it had been a bad idea to eat lunch before going to the crime scene. Gus looked over at Shawn. He'd gone very pale and his eyes had that creepy deer-caught-in-headlights look. Without a word, Shawn ran back to Gus' Echo. Lassiter gave Gus a _what the hell is going on_ look and Juliet looked concerned and confused. Gus gave the detectives an _I'm sorry_ look and dashed off to his car. Shawn was in the front passenger seat, holding his head in his hands. Gus opened the door.

"Shawn, you okay, man?"

"Yeah."

"Why did you take off like that?" asked Gus.

"Dude, I _just_ got over being sick; I couldn't watch you lose your lunch at the scene. We should go back now."

"My psychic senses were momentarily overloaded," Shawn told the detectives, all business.

Shawn held a hand to his head and detailed the crime.

"The victim left the club. He was confronted with a gun to his right temple and forced into the alley. Others were waiting for them. The gun was kept on him, as they stripped him and made him suck them off. Then, they took turns raping him. He couldn't see their faces-they wore ski masks and they kept moving, so he didn't know exactly how many there were. Probably around half a dozen or so. He was scared. Afraid they were going to kill him. And, they did."

Shawn hoped no one heard the slight shake in his voice at that last sentence.

"How could you possibly know all that?" asked Lassiter, sounding peevish.

"Hello...psychic," said Shawn.

Lassiter snorted in disbelief. He'd never believe that one.

"If you're going to doubt the spirits, Gus and I are leaving!"

Shawn marched off to Gus' car. Gus hurried to follow, sending an apologetic look to the detectives.

Shawn almost laughed as he walked off, happy to think he had left the detectives as confused as he always did, that they hadn't picked up on anything being wrong. He'd never thought that he would be happy to hear the poorly concealed aggression in Lassy's voice, but in this case he welcomed it.

If Lassie was annoyed with him, it meant he wasn't worrying about him; that he wasn't letting anything show through the façade of normality that he was trying so hard to keep up.

The drive back to the Psych office was quiet.

"That wasn't an ordinary 'vision', Shawn," said Gus at last, "what was going on with you at the crime scene?"

"Nothing," said Shawn, "just forget about it, Gus."

He sounded tired and worn out.

They returned to the Psych office.

As Gus was locking up his car, Shawn said, "I'm heading home for the day, dude. I'll see you tomorrow."

Shawn hopped on his motorcycle and sped off before Gus could reply.

Shawn knew that running away like that would not alleviate Gus' concern for him in any way, shape or form, but he just needed to be alone after the afternoon's events. In his apartment, Shawn stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers, laid down on his bed under the blanket and cried himself to sleep. He had another dream.

_"Just do as you're told and we'll let you live, Pretty-Boy."_

_The gun pressed to his head was all the proof he needed that they were not bluffing._

Gus was at his desk in the Psych office. He thought about Shawn's behavior that afternoon. He had been weirder than normal. Gus couldn't figure out why. There was also his mysterious illness and sudden recovery. _Were they connected? How? Why? What did it mean?_ Gus doubted Shawn would answer those questions willingly.

In the bathroom, Shawn undressed and tried not to notice the yellowing bruises around his hips, while stepping into the shower. Soon, they'd be completely gone and he wouldn't have to think about them anymore. _I hope Lassy and Jules won't need help with that murder outside the Lunar Lounge. Today was almost too much._


	4. Stress

** Chapter Four: Stress **

_A gun still pressed to his head. Down on all fours. Hands tight around his hips. Bruising, hurting-_

"Shawn? Shawn?"

"What?"

"Are you-you were acting weird yesterday."

"Don't worry about me, Gus. I'm fine."

The door knob rattled.

"Can I come in?"

He sighed.

"I guess."

Gus entered the room.

"Wow," he said, "you don't look too good, Shawn."

"I didn't sleep too well last night, that's all," said Shawn.

"Another nightmare?"

"Yeah."

"What was it about?"

"It's not relevant," said Shawn, "I should get dressed. Have you heard from the Chief?"

He found some clothes and walked down the hall to the bathroom.

"Yes," said Gus, standing outside the bathroom, "she wants us to work with Juliet and Lassiter on that murder from yesterday."

"They don't need my help," said Shawn, "it's a simple cut and dry rape/murder."

"Chief Vick said they couldn't find any fingerprints or DNA at the crime scene, and the only fibers they found were untraceable," said Gus, "she wants to see if you can find anything they missed."

"No," said Shawn, coming out of the bathroom.

"What?"

"No."

"But, Shawn-"

"I said no, Gus!"

Gus was taken aback by the forcefulness of his friend's last statement. It wasn't like him at all.

"What's wrong with you, Shawn?" asked Gus, "and don't say 'nothing', because it's obvious you're lying."

Shawn pushed past Gus and ran out of his apartment. Gus followed him to the door and saw him take off on his motorcycle.

"Shawn!" Gus called out, but it was too late.

 _That didn't end well._ Gus went back inside Shawn's apartment and decided to investigate.

Shawn drove his motorcycle without a destination in mind, but soon found himself outside the Lunar Lounge. The back alley was still taped off and the body was gone. Shawn slipped underneath the tape barrier and stood in the alley. He remembered all too clearly the man who had looked like a life-sized Ken doll lying there the previous day. The sightless blue eyes, the chiseled jaw line, the full lips, the ripped abs covered in dark bruises, the bullet holes in his chest. Shawn thought it had to have been the same men. If only he'd been able to see their faces.

_He thought it was over, but they were not finished with him. Strong hands pushed him from a kneeling position to being on all fours._

"Shawn?"

Shawn looked up from the pavement and saw Officer Buzz McNab.

"Am I interrupting anything?" Buzz asked, looking uncertain.

"Nothing important," replied Shawn, "could you give the Chief a message for me, Buzz?"

"Sure!" came the perky response.

"Great," said Shawn, "tell the Chief I will _not_ be taking the Lunar Lounge murder."

Gus could not find anything in Shawn's apartment that would give him a clue as to the cause of his friend's strange behavior. Now that his quest was fruitless, Gus felt bad about snooping around in Shawn's apartment while he was gone.

When Shawn returned to his apartment, Gus was gone. His phone started to ring as soon as he set foot in the door.

"Hello?"

"Shawn! I've been trying to call you since last week! What the hell have you been doing?"

It was his dad. _Of course._

"Yes, Dad?"

"Why haven't you been over here to fix the gutters on the house?" demanded Henry, "and I don't believe that story Gus told me about you being sick."

"I've...been busy...with a case!"

"What's so important that you can't call, Shawn?" asked Henry.

"It's a very sensitive and complicated matter," said Shawn.

"Do tell."

"Sorry, Dad. Don't need your help on this one."

Shawn hung up the phone and sat on the couch to watch TV. He mindlessly watched a high-energy infomercial. Two middle-aged men were trying to sell a cure for body odor.

Gus was at his own apartment, reorganizing his bedroom closet. He was trying not to think about Shawn as he completed his task. He was not going to spend all his time obsessing over something that might not even be important. The phone rang.

"Hello?"

It was the Chief. She wanted to know why Shawn refused to take the case.

"I don't know," replied Gus, "why don't you ask him?"

"Because he's not answering his phone."

The Chief sounded very miffed. Gus agreed to talk to Shawn about it again.


	5. Refusing to Play Nice

** Chapter Five: Refusing to Play Nice **

Shawn awoke to two voice-over spokespeople pitching a compilation album about...knees, of all things. He turned off the TV in the middle of a Tina Turner number about her patella. He wondered how long he'd been asleep. The phone rang.

"Hello."

"Shawn!"

It was Gus.

"Hey, Gus. What's up, man?"

" _What's up?_ I'll tell you what's up," grumbled Gus, "the Chief just called me, asking why you're not taking that Lunar Lounge case, because she couldn't get ahold of you!"

"Oh. Is that all?"

" _Is that all?_ Is that all?"

Gus sounded even more irritated now.

"Is there like an echo or something?" asked Shawn.

"Have you been to your dad's, yet?" asked Gus, ignoring Shawn's question.

"Umm...maybe," replied Shawn.

"Maybe? You can't remember?"

Gus wasn't sure whether to be concerned or skeptical.

"Should I call your dad and ask him?" asked Gus.

"No! Okay, fine. I haven't been over, yet."

"You have to go over there sometime," said Gus, "you promised to help."

"I told Dad I was too busy working on a case to help fix the gutters right now," said Shawn.

"You're not working on any cases right now," said Gus, "unless you took a case without telling me about it again."

"No, I'm not on a case, Gus."

"Then why did you tell your dad you are?"

"Because I-I just didn't feel like it today. I was sick last week, remember? Has everyone forgotten already?"

"Well, you just happened to get sick the day you were supposed to go to your dad's," pointed out Gus, logically, "so he probably just thought you were faking sick to get out of it."

"Yeah, that's what he said."

"Call the Chief," said Gus.

Shawn rode his Norton to the police station.

"Shawn!"

It was Jules. She looked surprised to see him there.

"Hi, Jules," he said.

He wasn't in a flirty mood. The blond detective's forehead crinkled in confusion at the short reply that lacked its usual playfulness. She was about to say something, when her partner came out of the Chief's office. He frowned when he saw Shawn.

"What do you want, Spencer?" he asked.

"I'm here to talk to the Chief," said Shawn.

"Are you taking the case?" asked Jules.

"No," said Shawn, "no, I'm not taking the case."

"Why don't you want this case?" Chief Vick asked.

"You don't need my help on this case," replied Shawn, "there's nothing at the scene to find. There's nothing there I can divine from."

The Chief arched an eyebrow at him.

"Really?" she asked.

Shawn stuck to his story.

"I told Lassy and Jules everything I could divine at the scene when Gus and I were there yesterday."

"And, you don't think it's worth a second look?" asked the Chief.

"Not really, no," he said.

After Shawn had left the office, Karen Vick stared at the door; a mildly concerned look on her face. She never really believed in the man's "psychic" ability, but he did get results nonetheless, and that's why she'd kept him on. Now she was mystified by his uncharacteristic refusal to take the case. For now, she'd trust that his uninvolvement was for the best, and hope he would change his mind if they still needed him.


End file.
